LITHOGRAPHY
BY
| JOSEPH’ PENNELL, N.A.
] PRESIDENT OF THE SENEFELDER CLUB FOR THE ADVANCEMENT OF
ARTISTIC LITHOGRAPHY, LONDON. JOINT AUTHOR, WITH E. R.
PENNELL, OF ‘‘ LITHOGRAPHY AND LITHOGRAPHERS,” AND
OF THE AUTHORIZED ‘LIFE OF J. MoN. WHISTLER.’’
FREDERICK KEPPEL & CO.
4 EAST 39TH STREET
NEW YORK
INSTITUTION
LITHOGRAPHY
BY
JOSEPH PENNELL, N.A.
PRESIDENT OF THE SENEFELDER CLUB FOR THE ADVANCEMENT OF
ARTISTIC LITHOGRAPHY, LONDON. JOINT AUTHOR, WITH FE. R.
PENNELL, OF ‘LITHOGRAPHY AND LITHOGRAPHERS,”? AND
OF THE AUTHORIZED “LIFE OF J. McN. WHISTLER.”’
FREDERICK KEPPEL & CO.
4 EAST 39TH STREET
NEW YORK
OF THIS BOOKLET THERE HAVE BEEN
PRINTED FOUR HUNDRED COPIES,
SEPTEMBER, I9I2
Copyright, 1912, by
FREDERICK KEPPEL & CoO.
LITHOGRAPHY
By JOSEPH PENNELL, N.A.
President of the Senefelder Club for Advancement of Artistic Lithography,
London; joint author, with E.R. Pennell, of ‘Lithography and Lith-
ographers,”’ and of the authorized ‘‘ Life of J. McN. Whistler.”
3( LITHOGRAPH is a print from a stone or
’ ametal plate. But it is far more than this.
Xe In etching or engraving the incised or
A= raised lines of the engraved design are filled
in or covered over with printer’s ink and the print is
pressed or lifted off; in lithography the design in ink,
on the flat surface of stone or plate, is transferred
from it to paper and is an original autographic draw-
ing, solely the work of the artist who made it. It is
not only a print, but the multiplication of the original.
It is the only genuine form of multiplying autographic
art, and this transferring from stone to paper, called
printing, may be done repeatedly, as the print from
an etching is repeated. But in etching the artist never
sees his design till it is printed. In lithography it
grows in his hands exactly as it will print and he sees
it all the while.
The art of lithography was invented by Aloys Sene-
felder about one hundred and fifteen years ago; and,
save a few details, he discovered all that is known
about it, and every method that is practised to-day.
A drawing is made either with lithographic chalk, a
greasy, soapy crayon or pencil, or with ink, upon a
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slab of Solenhofen stone—a very uniformly grained
stone, easily polished, to which the greasy chalk or ink
adheres—on a zine or aluminium plate, or upon a
sheet of paper. Ordinary drawing-paper will an-
swer, but it is preferable to have it coated with a
preparation of gum, size, or plaster of Paris, which
takes the chalk better than uncoated paper and al-
lows the design made on it to be transferred to the
stone with more certainty. Senefelder advocated the
use of paper for artists, saying in his ‘‘Treatise on
Lithography’’ it was probably the most important
part of his discovery. The drawing, then, is either
made, by the artist on a slab of stone—smooth for
pen-work, grained by grinding with sand to give
it a tooth for chalk—or upon paper—in the latter
case, to-day, the method. most generally practised by
artists in Europe, including the revivers of lithog-
raphy, Fantin-Latour and Whistler. The paper with
the drawing on it is slightly dampened, laid face down
upon the lithographic stone, and passed through the
press—the fat and grease is extracted from the draw-
ing by the stone and the design is seen upon it when
the paper is removed from the stone, while if the artist
and printer know how, the original drawing, from
which the grease has been squeezed and absorbed (for
the stone absorbs the ink and repels the water) by
passing through the press, remains on the paper—the
greasy drawing adheres to the stone. This must be
seen to be believed. Not only this but sufficient grease
remains in the design on the paper to repeat the pro-
cess of transferring to another stone.
To my knowledge, this was first done by Charles
Goulding of London. I have shown the method to Mr.
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APPROACHES TO GATUN Lock
PENNELL.
hes
ine
22 x 16%4
Size of the original lithograph,
THE GuarD GATE, GaTUN Lock
PENNELL.
ize of the original lithograph, 22 x 1634 inches
e
John Gregor of Messrs. Ketterlinus of Philadelphia,
and he has done it perfectly, though it was unknown
in the United States. Whistler, unfortunately, never
heard of it—or, rather, never practised it.
The drawing is now upon the stone, and it is washed
over with weak solutions of acid, simply to fix it—not
to etch it into relief or intaglio. The surface of the
stone remains perfectly flat. It is then rolled up with
ink, the stone being first washed with distilled water:
The inky drawing only absorbs more ink; the clean
wet stone refuses it. After more washing, gumming,
etc., all of which processes are capable of being more
or less done away with, the drawing is again washed,
ink again rolled over it, a sheet of paper placed on it
and run through the press, and the original drawing
comes off the stone on to the paper, but the design still
remains on the stone, which again only requires to be
damped with a sponge, rolled up with more ink, which
again only adheres to the drawing on the stone, and
another sheet of paper placed on it and run through
the press, and another original is made. The only re-
semblance to the printing of etchings is that litho-
graphs are very sensitive. Some will yield a large num-
ber of ‘proofs, like a bitten plate ; others very few, like a
dry-point. Only instead of getting weaker, the litho-
graph gets stronger, clogs up, and finally prints solid
black. Just before that happens, sometimes, the most
wonderful proofs appear. Of course the stone can be
tinkered at, corrected, redrawn, but the early good
proofs are rarely equaled, any more than in any other
form of engraving.
It has been said by critics and experts that a draw-
ing on paper is not so full and rich as a drawing on
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stone. Artists know that this is false. And no expert
is able to tell the difference—to tell whether the draw-
ing was made on paper or stone. The drawing may
be carried, to-day, as far on the paper as on the stone,
and the artist-lithographer, when using paper, tries
to carry out his design on the paper so completely
that he will not have to touch the stone after his de-
sign is transferred to it; for the grain of the paper
and the grain of the stone are always different, and
if the artist commences to work at his drawing trans-
ferred to stone—on the stone—he may have to go all
over it, as the two sorts of grain on the stone and
paper ‘‘swear at’’ each other.. Whistler frequently,
for this reason, worked a few hours on the paper, and
days on the stone to which his design had been trans-
ferred, in order to cover up this difference of grain
and to make the transfer complete; for a very few
years ago transferring was a far more uncertain
method than it is to-day. The paper now is vastly
improved, printers. oe it better, and the re-
sults are sure.
Besides chalk and ink, drawings may be made with
stump rags, wash, mezzotinted or etched, done in color
or tint. There is no limit to lithography—the’ only
limit is the number of experiments that have been
made.
From the time of ecriden at any rate from the
time of Charlet in France, Lane in England, Hanf-
staengl] in Germany, little experimenting has been
done, and lithography has fallen more and more into
the hands of the professional lithographers, artists,
and printers. These men—some of them absolute mas-
ters of their trade—here and in Europe made it into a
6
Em NUH ey
Se
PENNELL. THE BOTTOM OF PEDRO MIGUEL LOCK
Size of the original lithograph, 22 x 1634 inches
PENNELL. BETWEEN THE GATES, PEDRO MIGUEL Lock
Size of the original lithograph, 22 x 1634 inches .
trade; and no one but themselves and their appren-
tices was allowed to practise it, though until fifty
years ago it was as much an art craft as etching, but
for nearly thirty years after it was asleep as an art.
But André Marty in France, and Thomas Way in
England, again induced artists to take it mp notably
Fantin and Whistler, about 1880.
Many of the best modern artists are trained lithog-
raphers, men who started their career in lithographic
offices, and made a living as ‘‘litho-artists,’’ drawing
circus posters and cigar labels and candy-box covers
aS well as making chromolithographs of pictures.
Menzel in Germany, and Twachtmann in the United
States, are notable, but these men got out of. the
drudgery as soon as possible; and Menzel is one of
the few well-known artists who returned to lithog-
raphy for the love of it in later life. But Marty and |
Way both wished artists, when they had made their
drawings on stone, to allow them to be printed. This
seemed very fine till the printing began, ‘and the ar-
tists found it ‘‘wrapt in mystery.’’ The drawing on
paper or stone, taken from them, was returned again
a proof, but how that proof was obtained was none of
their affair; and later, too, a bill came. And usually
the pleasure of making the drawing, and the excel-
lence of the proofs, were all that resulted, as no
collectors, scarcely, would look at lithographs. All
but the few artists who cared for it, and could afford
it, or could get credit, dropped lithography. Expense
and mystery and trade-unionism again stifled it, but
within the last few years certain artists, notably in
England, have either set up presses of their own, or
forced their way into printing-offices, and learned
7
that there are no secrets in lithography; that it re-
quires only practice to transfer, etch, and print; that
everything is in the text-books. And finally, the
County Council of London has established technical
schools of lithography, and many artists have attended
these and learned from practical lithographers who
teach in these schools all there is to learn, which, as in
the case of practical copperplate printing, is mighty
little, though it, too, is surrounded with a wall of
seriousness only equaled by the lithographic tower of
mystery. Practice is the only secret in both cases.
Another cause for the advancement of artistic
lithography was the introduction, or rather the sub-
stitution, of zinc and aluminium plates for stone.
These can be handled by an artist and do not neces-
sitate a staff of trained athletes to manage to lift and
to carry. For work out of doors, weight is the unsur-
mountable objection to stone. Stone is simpler and
more direct, and surer to draw on—that is, there is
less chance of accident. It is impossible, however, to
earry about a stone weighing three or four hundred
pounds.
' Artistically there is no difference in the results
whatever bétween paper and stone. But artists have
found that in their hands the graining of the stone
and the preparation of the paper are artistic matters
which never entered into the mind of the professional
lithographer to consider. That the artist may draw
on the stone in hundreds of ways, the lithographer
knows nothing about. That the talk about dirty fin-
gers, dampness, spots, smears, is twaddle and tommy-
rot. That accidents, as in etching, if made use of
intelligently, contribute to the confusion of the profes-
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PENNELL. CRANES AT MIRAFLORES LOCK
Size of the original lithograph, 22 x 16%4 inches
PENNELL. THE CUT TOWARD CULEBRA
Size of the original lithograph, 22 x 1634 inches
sional, but the joy of the artist. These have found
that the etching of a lithograph is as much a work of
art, and as difficult, as the biting of a copperplate, yet
lithographers do it with their eyes—certainly their
brains—shut. The professional lithographer, as a
rule, knows nothing about the art of etching, and can’t
be taught; he usually has his method—the shop
method—and by that he stands or falls,—and the
artist does, too, if he depends on the professional.
These artists now practising lithography have dis-
cerned that half the things the professional lithog-
rapher does, should not be done, and never were done
in the early days of the art, probably.
And finally, that the printing of a lithograph may
be as artistic as the printing of an etching. This to
the professional lithographer is a crime, to the artist a
delight. To the professional printer the prints must
look just like the artist’s drawing, and all be alike.
The fact that the artist sees the glimmer of new grace
in his work as he prints—the germ of an idea as he
goes on—a new scheme of color as he experiments—is
to be suppressed, and the professional lithographer
suppresses it; he has been trained to believe litho-
graphs ought to be as like as two peas.
The artist has collapsed under expense—mystery —
and this artless lithographic ideal. The few who for-
got these lithographic canons, the trade-unions tried
to stifle and drive from the practice of the art.
But in a very short time these artists will be show-
ing lithographs which depend as much on the etching
and printing as a copperplate. And to-day even,
lithographs are in existence which rank with the
finest etchings. What of Whistler’s? Yet, alas! he
9
knew but little save of drawing—nothing of etching
and printing his lithographs. Had he known what we
who have tried to follow him know, there would have
been twice as many. lithographs by him; he would
have made ten times as many experiments, and had a
hundred times less difficulty. Mystery and expense
drove him from lithography.
Lithography is an art absolutely on the same high
summit as etching, and just as few people will ever
be great lithographers as great etchers—fewer—
because it is not so easy and so cheap to dabble in and
play with. When lithography again comes to its own
the professional lithographer will have no part in it—
no more than the professional printer has in etching.
Lithography is going again to be appreciated, and
appreciated by collectors, as it never has been. The
signs are all about us—the artists are among us.
Etching owes much of its fascination to its uncer-
tainty; for the great etcher, though he knows what he
wants to do, does not know what he has done till he
sees the proof he has pulled with his own hands come
off the press—and then frequently it.is not at all what
he wants or what he meant it to be. No one who can-
not and does not print his own proofs is a true etcher—
a true artist. The great lithographer sees his drawing
on paper, or on stone, or on metal, ‘‘finished from the
beginning,’’ just as he will see it in the proof, the
multiplied original; and he can make any changes for
improvement at any time that he likes. If—and I
admit there is—there is a charm in the uncertainty of
etching, there is an equal charm in the absolute cer-
tainty of lithography. Of course the artist must be a
master of the craft—its master and its servant. To
10
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the amateur, the collector, there should be, and there
will be, in the near future, an equal delight in both
the oldest and the newest of the graphic arts.
PRACTICAL .
IF the artist proposes to lithograph a subject which he
can draw in his own studio, he should make the draw-
ing on stone—always on a grained stone, unless for
pen-work. If he proposes to work out of doors, he
must usually work on paper, as the stone of any size
is far too heavy to carry about; though he may use
zine or aluminium plates—they are excellent, but their
color is unsympathetic. If the drawing is made on
stone or metal, it will print reversed, if made on pa-
per correctly. The Scotch transfer-paper made by
Cornelessen, 22 Great Queen Street, London, is far the
best, and there are many grades of it. There are end-
less makes of lithographic chalk. If working with a
professional printer, it is best to ask him the sort he
likes. At the present times Korn’s chalks, Centre
Street, New York, are excellent and in very general
use in England and America. Those made in the
form of Blaisdell pencils I use altogether, and so get
rid of the clumsy crayon-holder. Whistler simply
held a bit of chalk in his fingers. In hot or damp coun-
tries this could not be done. The ink is simply chalk
ground with distilled water like dry water-colors or
India ink, and put on the pen with a brush, in the
stupid old fashion, by the professional litho-artist.
There is no reason why it should not be sold in bottles
like liquid India ink. Washes—of ink, litho-tint—
may be made by washing the ink, thinned more or less,
11
on to paper or stone—the ink dries much lighter
than it looks when washed on the stone. It is very
tricky stuff and requires much practice, or happy acci-
dents and much scraping.
I always draw with a soft chalk out of doors, for
masses, using the side of it; and for delicate passages
use. copal—the hardest. All decent transfer-paper
may have lights or corrections made on it, and much
modeling done with a pocket knife—the best instru-
ment; but the artist should restrain himself till the
drawing is finished, as frequently the scraped parts
print—not a little lighter, as they look, but quite
white, the preparation being removed. And the
scraped parts cannot be drawn over on the paper ; but
as soon as the drawing is transferred to stone, before
it is etched or rolled up, it can be scraped or drawn
on without trouble, and all imperfections removed or
effects added.
It is as well to have drawings put on the stone—or
etched, if on the stone—as soon as possible; but draw-
ings I made in Panama, in dampness and heat, were
carried six thousand miles and transferred perfectly,
to every one’s amazement, including my own, in Phila-
delphia, after some months’ delay.
The artist, if he remembers the few details I have
mentioned, and can find “a responsive intelligent
printer, should draw on paper or stone, trying only to
get a decent drawing. There is nothing special in the
technique of drawing to bother about, provided he can
draw—most artists cannot. He should draw with the
lithographic chalk as he does with pencil or charcoal.
If he wishes to become a good lithographer, he must
study the whole art, science, and chemistry of it, set
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PENNELL. THE END OF THE Day, GATUN Lock
Size of the original lithograph, 2134 x 1634 inches
SoyPul ZZ xX HOT ‘Ydvasoyp] [VULSILO ayy JO aZIG
OdSISQ SVG WONd LND AHL dN ONIMOOT “TIANNAG
up his own press, and do the work himself as etchers
do. Itis the only way to excellence—and worth while.
There is no use going to a lithographic printing-office
unless one understands lithography and can ‘‘boss the
job’’ and the printer. Even a printer in one’s own
studio is a difficult proposition, but almost indispen-
sable for the heavy, dirty work. But good men will
often come overtime, and mutual benefit may result.
In England laziness—another name for unionism—is
rampant. But at present the trade-union and the
stupid commercial lithographer—the Americans are
the worst—do everything to prevent the practice of
lithography by artists and collectors, and dealers have
done little to encourage it. .But it has a great future,
for it is a living, vital art. There are three large firms
who do encourage artists: Lemercier’s, Paris; Way’s,
London; Ketterlinus’, Philadelphia.
My experiences with my Panama pictures may
show what may be expected by the would-be lithog-
rapher. The United States Government, to my sur-
prise, had no lithographic press in the Canal Zone,
and I did not see a sign of one on the entire Isthmus.
In San Francisco I found no one—could hear of no
one—who knew anything about artistic lithography,
but many were willing to make experiments with my
work. In the city of New York, in one—the American
Company—I'was asked how many hundred thousand
million dozen gross of reams of goods I wanted. When
I explained I should be contented with a few dozen
proofs, I was n’t even shown the door.
The second experience began with a letter. I asked
if there was not some one I could find in New York
who really worked at lithographic printing for him-
13
self. I was told, No. I could do one of three things:
buy a press and do the work myself—most excellent
advice; take the drawings to England—which I did
not want to; or join the trade-union. I chose the last.
The union hesitated. I would have to be elected,
and it would cost thirty dollars to join. I said if the
union could manage the election, I would try to raise
the thirty dollars. After the usual delay of this
hustling country, I received notice that I was not
elected or eligible. Maybe I was blackballed. I only
know that I lost an amusing experience—and the
union a member, and one who would have given them
the time of their lives or broken trade-unionism. I
came over to Philadelphia. I was first refused by one
firm, absolutely, permission to work, or even see the
work being done; and then, by another—the Ketter-
linus Lithographic Manufacturing Company—received
and treated with the greatest courtesy and considera-
tion and intelligence, as well as being allowed to work _
in the printing-office, with the result that at the hands
of Mr. Gregor, their chief prover, I got a large number
of excellent proofs, and they got some ideas which may
be of some service to them. I wish most strongly to
recommend this firm; the manager of the Art Depart-
ment, Mr. Leinroth ; and the chief prover, Mr. Gregor,
and his assistants. Mr. Gregor is the best printer, the
broadest-minded, most enthusiastic lithographer, I
ever worked with. His work is his delight, and it is a
pleasure to work with such a master craftsman; and
when you find such men you find the most serious and
enthusiastic craftsmen in the world. The trouble is,
you usually meet the business man, and the business
man usually has no time to bother with artists.
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